


Because he didn't pay enough attention

by kincy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Not Beta Read, Potter AU, and sherlock has no clue about it, and using magic in their flat, cause he didn't pay enough attention, john was a wizard, to know john's a wizard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 09:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kincy/pseuds/kincy
Summary: John Watson wasn't who he told he was, well that's not exactly right. He just didn't tell all of it, and Sherlock is so unbelievably clueless.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I came across this amazing headcanon (http://fancypantswatson.tumblr.com/post/76137687450/potterlock-au-john-was-wounded-as-an-auror-not) that to quote the headcanon itself "John was wounded as an Auror, not in Afghanistan. He gets away with a bit of magic in the flat, because Sherlock doesn’t pay much attention to domestic things." And voila! The fic's here hope you enjoy. Not beta.

He couldn’t believe someone so smart—no, brilliant, can be so clueless. He and Sherlock had been flat mates for 3 months now. And he didn’t even wonder how the tea had made itself every morning. That’s just _wow_. Sherlock, considered to be the most brilliant detective he’d ever seen, who analyzed everyone and everything, didn’t notice something weird in their flat. Something _magical_ to be precise.

He meant every morning the charmed kettle would brew itself and the tea would be ready as soon as one of them were up, however, almost every time it was him so that wouldn’t be something Sherlock can notice. But what about this, sometimes when he was typing his blog and Sherlock asked for his newspapers, or phone (how he loved to put it in his coat was widely known), he who was busy typing his blog would bring out a wand and _accio whatever Sherlock asked for_ and sent it to him. But then again, he was whispering under his breath though Sherlock’s senses were quite beyond normal, he didn’t notice.

 

Because Sherlock Holmes didn’t pay much attention to domestic things.

 

So when he told him he would be away for a day because of some _family issue_ , Sherlock didn’t interrogate. Well, he didn’t even look up from his microscope, but gave some sarcastic comment as usual, so that was a relief. Thus, he said  
“And when you’re back would you bring me some local newspapers too, the case around here aren’t so interesting anymore.”  
“Of course, I guess there would be some interesting one for you. And by that it might contain some Death or Alive game again.”  
“John that taxi c—“  
“Got a train to catch, see you later Sherlock. And don’t make Mrs.Hudson anymore problems.”  
“Please, John.”

 

And he went to Platform 9 ¾, just for a certain reason.

 

It had been almost 2 years, if his memory served him well, since his last visit to Wizarding World. Since he retired from the Auror department and gave up a life in this world too. That’s why he opened his own clinic now, but his feelings about this world still lingered. He could still remember the first time he was on the Hogwarts Express, the first time he was sorted, the first time he was in classes, the first time he joined the Aurors and well, that was all the past now, didn’t it? Now, he was Dr.John Watson, Sherlock Holmes’ colleague and flat mate.

 

He stepped down the train and the sight of the familiar castle was in front of his eyes. He was at Hogwarts now.

 

“Uh—Professor?”  
“Oh, isn’t that—Mr.Watson.”  
“Yes, it’s been a while now. Professor McGonagall.” She walked right to him and gave him a small smile before gestured him to follow her.  
“Why don’t we go talk in my office then.”

 

And they went.

 

After they were in the headmaster’s office, she offered him a tea and biscuit, which he didn’t refuse. He looked around and noticed that some of the portraits weren’t in their frame.  
“I guess _he_ sneaked out again?”  
“Yes, but what can I do?” They smiled at the thought of trying to keep _him_ here all the time. Definitely impossible. “And I thought you’d left the Aurors for a quiet life." She sat down opposite of him and sipped her tea after asking him. He relaxed on his chair and looked at his Professor.  
“So did I, but my flat mate’s a bit mad, yeah.” She looked back at him with a concern look on her face, and he was curious what it would be about.  
“So it would seem. Are you not concern that he’ll—“ Oh, she worried that Sherlock would find out about his wound, about his life before him.  
“—figure out it’s not actually a bullet scar, but left over from a curse?”  
“Well, yes.” He couldn’t help but sniggered at that thought, like he said before, Sherlock didn’t pay enough attention to notice that. But he didn’t think that day wouldn’t come too.  
“Ah, he’s yet to wonder how the tea make itself every morning.”

 

But would Sherlock figure that out though? That he didn’t went to Afghanistan like he analyzed on the first time they met? Or that he was a living wizard, that believed to only exist in a fantasy world or some storybook? He couldn’t help but thinking and he didn’t know what to expect, what reaction would he get when Sherlock had known. Well, maybe some denials were guaranteed.

 

“So I thought you were doing fine with that new life of yours?” Professor McGonagall asked after she put her cup away.  
“Yes, I’m fine with it, I mean being a detective’s partner isn’t that bad. It’s quite interesting actually.”  
“I hope you know that you’ll always welcome here. You would make a great teacher, I’m certain.” His lips curved up and formed a smile, a genuine smile from his professor’s concern.  
“Yes, I know professor. But I think I’ll just live this way.”  
“Well then, I guess you should go back to that detective friend of yours. He must be worried that his partner was missing.” He thought of that and oh, how he could black mail him with that.  
“I’d love to see that with my own eyes, professor.”  
“Yes, yes, Mr.Watson. You should hurry up if you don’t want to miss the train.”  
“Goodbye then, it was a pleasure talking to you Professor.”  
“And you too, now let me do my work!”

 

He ran and it was just in time that he caught the train. When he reached King’s Cross station, he didn’t forget to take some newspapers with him. ‘Cause who would have known what will Sherlock do if he didn’t get a case.

 

He was at his flat and it was surprisingly quiet. He guessed Mrs.Hudson was out again and there would only be Sherlock here. So he walked up to their living room and waved the newspapers once he was inside.  
“I got you your newsp—“ Sherlock was lying on the couch but something was weird, he was wearing his coat not his pajama. Shelock jumped out of the couch as soon as he was close enough to him. His eyes sparkling and he was shaking him enthusiastically. Something was up, he could tell.  
“John! The game! The game is on.”  
“Wha—“  
“We’ve got a case come on! I’ve been waiting for 2 hours for you to get back. Hurry put that things somewhere I don’t care, we need to be quick. Come on!”

 

And he did.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm more than appreciate if you leave some kudos and comments!! Thanks for reading my fiction and hope you enjoy it!!  
> P.S All error is mine.


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